Nadir
by Cabbitshivers
Summary: Goku's keeping an eye on his family after the destruction of Cell, when tragedy strikes and he's slapped in the face with the consequences of his actions. Can he save his son's eternal soul from damnation?
1. Nadir

NADIR  
  
  
  
It was stupid. So stupid. A quick, one-second decision, a typical no-brain action, devoid completely of any thought as to the consequences. Stupid, stupid! They always said I was simple-minded and thoughtless, but this time I've really lived up to my reputation as a third-class baka. Damnitt, Vegeta, why'd you have to be so damn right? I didn't think - I didn't even pause to consider how he would take it, how he would react to me leaving him yet again. Kami-damnitt! I just didn't think! Sure, I did it for him, for everyone. Hell, if I hadn't done it there'd be nothing left for them to stand on, or everyone else for that matter. They'd all be down here. With me.  
  
Instead of only me.  
  
I have to restrain the urge to fling myself even farther from them into the yellow clouds that form the ceiling of Hell. What I have done has to be one of the most stupid things I've ever done in my life - most certainly the dumbest in my afterlife - I said 'No.'  
  
They wanted to wish me back... and I said "No."  
  
"NO"!?!  
  
I just go and do it again. Caught up in my own lust for the challenge, my own over-protectiveness to keep my family away from the reach of the instinctive pull that we Saiya-jin's have to fight - I completely overlook his reaction. I'm such a baka! And now I can't take it back. I made my choice. And it was so _stupid_  
  
... He blames himself...  
  
I watch him from here. He cries when he thinks no one is looking, curled into a ball the tears dry on his cheeks at night. Piccolo held watch outside his window the first week. I know he could hear his tears just as well as I could. Can. He still cries.  
  
I wonder... Does he know that I watch him?  
  
If he did would he still cry? Or would he hide it from me, too ashamed to show me how much my choice has hurt him? Emotion has no place on the battlefield, so we were told.  
  
Sometimes I think that Piccolo knows I watch. He says things after long periods of silence, as if he's aware of my being there, listening, watching, asking questions in the voice I know he can't really hear. Maybe it's the Kami in him, or the Daimaoh, or both. The deity thing must really tune your mind into psychic and unearthly currents; either that or it's something all Namek-seijin's are born with, though I don't remember Piccolo's older brothers ever displaying such talents. They were careless stampeding bulls in a fine china shop, blundering into minds like rampaging Oozaru's. Strange how I can liken myself to them, they who murdered my best friend without a thought to what death truly was. I wish now that I had never learnt to read minds... that I had never brushed myself into his... what is in his mind is... frightening. Soul-gripping.  
  
Terrifying.  
  
I wish he wouldn't think things like that. I've been hoping that it wouldn't haunt him as much as it has, but it's getting worse. It's becoming... serious. Piccolo knows. I'm sure of it. I think that it's the only possible reason as to why he's been paying even more close attention to him than usual. His shadow... his guardian angel... the father I could never hope to be.  
  
Damnitt - typical that at a time like this, when I'm needed so badly, I get jealous.  
  
I can't disguise that I'm envious of him - have been since the first time I died. He knows my son better than I do, watched him when I couldn't, taught him to fight, witnessed his first transformation into Oozaru. So many firsts he's seen that I've missed. So many firsts I've missed while I was alive because I've just been too occupied with fighting.  
  
I wasn't there for his first steps; I was training in the forest. I missed his first real laugh; I was unconscious on the floor after knocking myself out on the table when I slipped on some of Go-chan's baby-mush foodstuff. (Incidentally, that was what made Go-chan laugh in the first place.) His first meal of solids (training in the mountains), his first haircut (training again), his first grazed knee (actually, I was cutting firewood during that one), his first word (I was fishing), which happened to be a gurgled attempt at my name (Go-go.) I envy Piccolo for teaching him what I couldn't...  
  
I envy him that every time Gohan looks at him there is undisturbed love in his eyes.  
  
I envy him that every time Gohan looks at me there is pain shadowing the love.  
  
I envy him Gohan's smiles.  
  
I envy him Gohan's laughter.  
  
I envy him Gohan's hesitant attempts to stand close to him.  
  
I am jealous.  
  
Piccolo taught him to survive... while I... I... Well, just look at me! Because of my stupid actions that teaching is taking a heavy beating now... all because of me. Stupid jealous baka with kaka-hair. Vegeta-sama was right - I was too stupid to live. Gohan is... he's thinking about, I mean seriously contemplating... killing himself.  
  
Suicide.  
  
I hate that word. Every syllable is an empty sound that contains so much pain that it's a miracle it hasn't exploded in my mind when I think of Gohan's connection to it. I hate the way it's taking hold of my Go-chan, the way not a day goes past where he's not thinking about just how easy it would be to do it at that time, and at that place, and with that technique. His mind is filled with voices; his, Chi-chi's, Piccolo's, Vegeta's, and, oh Kami... mine. Fabricated vociferations hurling taunts and untruths into the mind I barely recognize anymore. I guess we all overlooked just how fragile he really is. Just how Kami-damned dependent on us for his happiness he must be. He hides himself so well - he's had to. And I hate myself for the fact that I would have told him the same thing Piccolo had; Fear and cowardice have no place on the battlefield. How were we to know that for him the battle never ends? How was I to know? Oh, Kami, I'm a messed-up idiot who's irreversibly fucked up his son. But Kami, we needed him. We needed him! We could never have won without him! I wish we could've... I wish it would have been possible... it hurts to be wishing so hard, but it was a foregone conclusion that we would have lost irrevocably if he hadn't joined in the...  
  
/Please, Daddy, it hurts too much./  
  
My son doesn't like to fight. He doesn't like to hurt. He doesn't like to kill.  
  
And I've made him do all three.  
  
/I can't do it, Dad! I don't have anything left!/  
  
My son for the world, huh? Is that what the on-going price is for saving Chik-yuu? My son's life, or the life of everyone else on the planet? Well then fuck the world! I don't know the world! Let them fight their own damn battles! I want my son back! Give me my Kami-damned son back you bastards! Damn... I can't... I can't take... k'so, shit, shit, shit! It's all my fault... my entire fault! DAMNITT! Damnitt... Gohan, Gohan, please... put down the blade. Please son... you don't want to do this! You don't! Please... Damnitt, Piccolo - where the hell are you?!  
  
Stop him. Oh, God, somebody stop him.  
  
Why can't he hear me? Kai? Kai, why can't you let me go? Goddamnitt! Let me go down there! What do you mean there's no way?! There has to be! Just... I have to... Oh, Kami, I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... I didn't mean it. I didn't mean any of it! Kami, someone help him. Someone help him, please!  
  
Vegeta? Vegeta, what are you... oh, God, it's too late! There's so much... I think - I think I'm going to be sick... there's so much blood... so much... It can't be too late! It can't! Do something, damn you! Don't just stand there! Fucking DO something! Anything! Sear the wounds closed with ki. Bind his arms. Stop the bleeding. Give him a fucking senzu bean! Just don't stand there with... those... tears... on your face. Help him! Hold him! Just... don't let him go. Please, don't let him go alone...  
  
There you are, Piccolo. Where have you been? Did you have fun while my son was slitting his veins open from wrist to elbow? Fuck you! Fuck you all! Oh, god, how could we have let this happen? How could I have... Gohan, I'm so sorry... I'm sorry, Oh, God am I sorry!  
  
Strange... seeing Vegeta cry. Three times, now, and it's for my son... Hold him, oh please, just keep holding him... Brush his hair from his face... kiss his brow... tell him you love him... Do everything I should have, and do it now! Yes, Piccolo, stroke his hair... keep his mind off all that emptiness. He should never have had to feel it... and I'm sorry...  
  
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...  
  
Gohan...  
  
What do you mean 'It's time', Kaiousamma? Time for...? Oh. Oh, God. Already? Oh, Kami... Just-just hold on, Gohan. I'm coming now, son. Just hold on, all right? It wont last long, I promise... the emptiness won't last long. I'll be waiting for you when you arrive. Not long now... The silence is going to end, and I'll be the father to you that I should have been from the start.  
  
I'm not going to be stupid again.  
  
This I promise you.  
  
  
  
~=Owari=~  
  
  
  
"Nadir" - Written by Cabbitshivers 2002-11-03  
  
http://www.dreamwater.net/abiogenesis/Index01.html  
  
Cookie for anyone who knows what 'Nadir' means! 


	2. Azimuth

AZIMUTH

It's cold.

Where am I? This isn't right, is it? I – I don't think this is where I'm supposed to be… Vegeta? Vegeta, where did you go? Am I dead? Where am I? It's so dark, and I can't see anything. There are no shadows, no light to cast them, no sound… no heat. It's so cold… Piccolo? Vegeta? …D-dad?

I hate silence.

Can I move? I–I'm almost afraid to try… My arms hurt. Why do they hurt? The Cell fight was months ago… those injuries shouldn't be bothering me anymore. Strange. It stings like a bee's prick, lacing up the underside of my forearms, so cold, tight. Now it's becoming hot… burning, pulsing like a heartbeat… this pain – I should know it. Why should I know it? Have I… have I done something I shouldn't? That's right… I did, didn't I? I did something to myself. What was it? What did I do? My arms hurt so much…

I'm trying to remember, I know there's something to the pain, but there's an essence blocking me. A part of me doesn't want to remember, maybe. There has to be a reason for why I feel I should know whatever it is that I've done and forgotten. But… but what is it? I have to push harder, have to get past this black wall so I can understand…

My hands feel wet. I can't see, but maybe there's water in here. I could probably even be standing in a lake and I wouldn't know… everything but my arms feels numb. Whatever it is that's on my hands is warm, and it makes my fingers stick together when I curl them. I wish I knew what it was. The sensation of it is slightly disturbing as it tickles down my arms and makes my fingers twitch. I want to wipe it off, but I'm afraid of the pain from my arms if I do.

I jump when something cold presses against my knuckles, coaxing them to open, and a thin, cold object is pressed into my palm. Unconsciously, I curl my fingers around it. A sharp edge bites into my skin and I realize what it is.

A knife.

There's a flash in my mind… something I should remember? This knife… means something? Does it have something to do with the pain in my arms? With why I'm here? This knife… did I… cut myself? Did I…

Silver; the flash of the blade in the evening light, the bite of cold steel, the sweet, burning pain as it slips easily into the skin… red; sweet, dripping red…

Is – is this a memory? I didn't really do that, did I? Why? Why would I do something like that? There's no reason… I'm happy! Happy people don't kill themselves!

Do they?

_ _Was__ I? Happy, I mean? I don't… I don't think I was. 

No, I wasn't! I wasn't happy at all. My father… he left us. After the fight he didn't come back. He just told me 'good job' and disappeared. Died, vanished, faded away. Forgot about me… Of course I wasn't happy! He abandoned me! He abandoned my mother! He didn't come back! …He-he said he was going to come back…

Why did he do that? Why didn't he want to come back? Wasn't I good enough… didn't I – didn't I do it right? I mean, there must've been some reason why he didn't want to be alive, wasn't there? Did I make him unhappy? It was all my fault, wasn't it? It always is… I can't do anything right.

Unexpectedly, the pain in my arms intensifies, and I cry out. I want to curl into a ball but my body won't move. I want to shout, but aside from the feeling of my throat vibrating there is no noise. Only silence.

I'm scared.

There's a flash within my mind. What's this - another image? Pain… there's so much pain in this one. More of the red… but not from me. No, this blood isn't mine. This is… This is… - I don't remember. Why don't I remember this time? Fingers… like little red rivers the blood drips from them, falling onto shattered rock. There's a smell, of brimstone, carried in the wind. 

Drip, drip, drip… 

I know I know this! I know I should! Show me more! Show me more so I can remember! What's missing? It's on the other side of this black wall. I can feel it there, calling me, taunting me… like the voice of Cell it won't shut up! I have to know… what's missing?

What's missing in me?

I feel it. It's just beyond the darkness. What am I forgetting?! __I have to remember!__

"Son, I want you to do something for me."

Sound. A Voice. This is my father? It sounds sort of like him… but different. Like he's talking through thick wads of material. D-dad? That is you, right? Otousan?

"I want you to get up. You have to help Krillin."

Help Krillin? But how? I'm dead, aren't I? I'm here. How can I help Krillin from here? Dad?

"You have to fight, Gohan. Fight, damn you!"

Wh-what?

"You are weak – no son of mine. Damn it, Gohan, fight!"

N-no! No, not again!

"You let me down."

No! No, please, no! I did it to get away from this! To get away from these voices! To stop you screaming at me! Stop screaming at me! Leave me alone!!! Go away and LEAVE ME ALONE!!!

I switch my grip on the knife and raise it up. I can't see in the darkness but I know where it is I'm aiming for. I lift my arm and plunge it down… I feel it sinking into me, through my skin, cutting deep. Sharp… god it's sharp. I flip hands, and I repeat, the pain searing through me now as it echoes its previous course through my opposite forearm. Yes… yes. This is why I did it. It's an end… I needed an end. My palms were filling with blood as I sat on the floor in my room. Okassan didn't come to stop me… okassan didn't care. Vegeta came – he cared. So did Piccolo. But… 

Pain! Pain… I thought it would go away… I'm dead but I still bleed. I'm dead but I still hurt. I thought the dead weren't supposed to hurt. I thought that was why chichiue didn't want to come back, coz I would make him hurt, and in the afterlife there wasn't any pain…

Is this my judgement? Is this where I'll be judged? Is that why I'm being shown things – things I don't want to see? Things I don't want to remember? Things I tried so hard to forget?! It's so cruel, I sob. Why is death so cruel?

** "Click."**

You are cruel, aren't you?

To give me light now, when I don't want it. There's so much of it… It's warm, feels like the sun, but there's nothing here. The light is full of emptiness… Is this Heaven? But where are all the people? All of the Angel's? There's nothing but the bright splatters of my blood I can see staining the perfect whiteness under my feet like it was wet paper, or cloth. Hehehe, that's funny – I'm tie-dying Heaven with my blood! I don't think Enma is going to like that much… Hehehe.

This isn't funny. Why am I laughing? Oh, Kami – am I insane? Did that last fight with Cell rattle more than just my teeth? I'm nuts, I'm crazy – no wonder my father hates me! Oh, God, oh God, oh God – I don't like it here. Why's it so empty? There's nothing here but the light… There's nothing! It's almost as bad as the darkness – at least there I couldn't see that there was nothing! Here… the emptiness…it… I'm lonely… I'm so alone… I'm not supposed to be here, am I? An eternity of this? This can't be Heaven – it can't! Oh, no…what if I'm in… Hell? 

I killed myself – that's a sin, isn't it?

Voices again… what are they saying? It's not father this time… no, not otousan… This time it's… 

Me?

"I have to help Daddy."

That voice is me? But I'm… I'm not speaking…

"I have to get up. I have to help Krillin."

Wait! This is from… this is from… This sounds so familiar!

"I have to fight! Papa can't move – I'm so scared!"

No… No… I don't want to hear this… You're making me remember – I don't want to remember!

"I'm weak – not like Daddy, not like Pikkoro-san. I have to fight… but what if he hurts me again?"

I said stop it! STOP IT, STOP IT, STOPPIT!!! 

"I let Daddy down…"

I don't wanna hear this! It was easier when I thought it was Dad! When I made myself believe it was Father! But he just smiled, said I 'did good' – but I didn't! I knew I didn't! I got Piccolo killed! Daddy almost died, too! I wanted him to be angry with me! I wanted him to hate me! Why doesn't he hate me?!?

Oh God – why do you show me these things? Why am I so mixed-up inside?

You're cruel and sadistic! And you keep taunting me!!! Why? In Heaven's name – why? What did I do to you? What? Oh, I'm so tired of this pain… It never goes away… It's hounded me for how long now? I don't know…years… years…

All I wanted was to sleep. Forever in darkness, in obscurity, to be oblivious, blind, mute, deaf, dead to every sense and emotion, to everything that could ever be associated with life. Float in nothing, like a solitary speck of dust. It must have been too much to ask. I only wanted the pain…the pain to…go away…

I wanted it to stop. I needed it to stop. I tried to make it stop… but it hasn't worked.

I'm just a stupid naïve child, aren't I? What would I know about pain? Pathetic little whiney brat that won't fight - spends his whole day with his nose buried in a book… Is that what everyone sees when they look at me? Well, of course it is, after all, I don't see anything else myself…

Oh, wow. The floor beneath me is almost completely red now. I wonder how long I'll bleed for in this place. Long enough to fill it to its boundaries? Do you think I'll get to keep my body? Does this place even __have__ boundaries?

I think I'm crying.

I think I'm insane.

Nothing is making any sense... my insides are in knots. I can feel them, twisting through each other, pulling the tangles even tighter, tying up with them all the threads of my mind that hang loose from where my pain tore them free… I feel like I've got a jigsaw puzzle, and I'm trying to put the pieces of me back where they're supposed to go, but only there's no picture to work off of…

Do you think… maybe I'll get a second chance? And maybe, if I manage to figure out what's wrong with me on the inside, then maybe they'll let me see dad? I want to see him, I really do… God, I wanna see my daddy…

Yeah, I am crying. I thought I was…

Silly. I'm quite stupid for crying, after all, I was the one who put myself here…

And they all thought __I__ was the smart one.

** "Click."**

Darkness again. Is the judgement over? Can I see my daddy now? Wait… if I go tell Hell, I won't be able to see him, because I'm pretty sure he's in Heaven. Is there a special place for the crazy people to go? I don't really wanna go down to Hell if I have to see Cell and Frieza again…

Oh God, Cell…

No, I won't think about that. I'll think about nothing. Yeah, I'll think about what this place I'm in is. It's like space, only without matter. Cold, empty, and colourless. Funny, how I really wanted to come here, how I took a knife to my veins to get to this empty place, and now that I'm here I would give everything I have to be somewhere else. Pity how I have nothing left to give. My soul feels a little bit mangled right now, so I doubt if anyone would want __that__.

My arms won't stop bleeding. My insides are knotted, pulling, full of pain. My thoughts have no… they make no sense.

Is this how a foetus feels, when still within the security of its mother? Aware, but not knowing what it is that it can hear, can feel? The tingling of nerves as they become active, the shifting and rolling from inside itself as things change and grow? This drifting, this endless dream of floating… 

Hmmm… this dark is nice. I don't have to feel in here. I can loose myself within this nothing.

Will I be able to find myself again, you think?

I don't think I care anymore.

I thought I did…

But, that was just a dream.

Just a dream…

I should just let the dream go…

Shouldn't I?


	3. Horizon 1 Kyrie Eleison

Horizon 1

KYRIE ELEISON 

.

.

.

. 

Time.

Like resolve it's always there but never enough when you need it.

More time is a good thing. It's always something someone wants whether they are aware of it or not. But it hurts when you see someone with less time than they should have, with not nearly enough time that they merit. He deserves so much more than what sparse amount he's allowed himself…

Is the boy even aware of what he's done? Of what he's cut so unceremoniously short?

Kami-damn all mother fuckers to hell! Why the fuck wasn't anyone here to stop him!?!

It's… not something I ever thought I would find myself faced with amongst the people who have incorporated me into their little clique. They seemed far too… stable, to even think of such things. Especially this one, especially the boy… He always seemed so much higher than the others, the brightness of his soul even taller that that of his father's. In my thoughts I have always placed him higher than those he stood with, the miracle child I had met on Namek-sei that in all rights shouldn't exist. Beautiful, impossible child, that lit the way for me to exit my cage of eternal hell and shed hope on my future, caused me to see that we hadn't died out, that we could still exist, that there was one miniscule breed of beings on a planet so small it could be classed a moon that my species could actually breed with. Actually BE with. Wonderful, stupid child that had so carelessly cut the threads of his time loose from existence.

Stupid boy…

STUPID!

What the hell made him feel that this was the answer? Damnitt, boy. Damnitt…

My heart is beating much faster than usual, and I'm almost afraid to touch him. By all rights he shouldn't even be upright. There's more blood on the floor than I even thought possible of coming from one person. And I've seen a lot of blood, before. A lot. Not so much of his, though, not nearly so much…

It's… shocking, in a way. My hands are shaking slightly. Yes, shocking is the right word. The brat's managed to shock me once again. Stupid, stupid boy…

"Baka…"

The word left my lips before I was even aware of it, and my body is kneeling at his side and I have no idea when I sunk down here. The warmth beneath my knees is disturbing; I feel it cooling even through the material of my clothes. I can see him shaking, and not one single drop of cold sweat on his pale face escapes my notice. I can see the colour draining so clearly… running through his veins, out the gashes that gape hideously in his arms and down across the floor…

Stupid bitch! Where the fuck is his sorry excuse for a mother?!

You idiot boy… There are other ways to dealing with pain than this… You should have talked to me – I would have listened even if I was pretending not to. I've always listened. It would be utmost stupidity to walk around in existence with two deaf ears to everything. And the Namek-seijin. He would have listened, too. That damned green Namek follows you around like one of those Guardian Angels the Earthlings are all so fond of. But where the fuck is he now, boy? Now that you need him where is he?

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. I still can't grasp at what I'm looking at here. The boy is looking at me now, aware that I'm here. I watch with what feels like lead in my lungs as he attempts to say something, his bluing lips splitting as they move, some small slit of colour dashing them where the rip bleeds.

"G-geta-s-saaa…maa…"

"Shut up, brat."

Was that my voice? Is this even me kneeling here? Fuck it. This is affecting me way more than it should. I've gotten too close. I should never have gotten this close. Damnitt, brat… Damnitt.

I should have seen this coming. With that idiot father of his gone it should have been my duty to watch over his family. But I screwed up. I missed this. How could I have not seen this coming! The boy can't hide anything in his eyes! Why the fuck wasn't I watching?!

Kami-samma, the smell… It's so strong… too strong… And it's wrong, completely and utterly wrong on some scale that I can't yet define. The scent of scorched rock is missing, the distinctive tingle of discharged ki in the air is… absent. It's wrong, so wrong… it's too clean. Death is not supposed to be this clean! Not his! He was supposed to go down fighting, like a true warrior, if ever at all…

"Gee…geeta?"

"I told you to shut up."

I meet his eyes again and I can see the fear inside of them starting to well. When I first looked into them they were empty, accepting, as if the reality of what he had done hadn't yet fully sunk in. Not now. Now the pupils are wide, swallowing up the brown of his iris, and dark shadows are dancing in them. I can see them there, behind my reflection. Behind the welling tear that starts to slip down one side of his face in slow mimicry of the blood coming from his arms.

A wind blows in through the open window and brushes against my skin, ruffling at his hair. And then suddenly, as though he were paper and the wind the catalyst, I watch him begin to fall. I'm moving before I have even realized it, a blur of motion that only stops when the boy comes to rest in my arms, and I'm sitting completely on the floor in a pool of his blood with his head cradled on my shoulder. One of his hands flops down onto my thigh, and I look down at it, the bloody fingers twitching as if they can't wait to die.

Die.

Oh shit.

I'm relieved that I can't see his eyes sitting like this. I don't want to see the fear in them. The fear I can feel in mine.

Damnitt, he's so cold.

"You shouldn't leave windows open in the winter, brat." I hear myself say. I try to hold my mouth shut, but I'm too stunned to make it quiet. "Even Saiya-jin's can catch colds."

The brat tries to reply, but all he makes is a low, purring sound in his throat.

Suddenly, there's a thud from over by the window, and I look up as a shadow is cast over the boy's feet. It's the Namek. I start to growl, getting ready to scream at the boy's most trusted idiotic friend, but stop when I feel the tremors that start to shudder through the boy's body. I glare instead, trying to infuse all my anger at the bastard who shows up when it's too late, but the Namek's not looking at me. He's looking at the boy.

I start speaking to him again, as the Namek sinks down to his knees beside me and starts running his fingers through the boy's hair, saying things that I'm not even sure are making sense. I can hear some words I haven't heard for a long time running off of my tongue, and I begin to realize that what I'm actually saying is in Saiya-go. I doubt the boy has ever heard the language, but maybe it's doing some good. Maybe we're helping the boy in some way. After all, no one should ever go alone. 

I feel his breaths begin to slow, my hand around his chest monitoring his faltering heartbeat although I haven't realized it until now.

Stupid brat. He didn't have to do it…

Piccolo is saying something from beside me, but now all I can hear is the boy's heartbeat and breathing as they begin to grow more shallow, more slow. I can feel my own heart try to match his, then leap and stutter as the blood that's in my body forces it to move. There's no blood in the boy's, though, to feed his starving heart. It's all on the floor. And I'm sitting in it.

I'm sitting in the boy's blood.

Shit. 

Shit.

I still can't grasp what's happening. The boy is dieing. The boy is killing himself. The boy has killed himself. I'm just waiting now… Just waiting.

It's taking so long… 

But it's still not long enough. Not long enough by half.

His heart thumps loud, heavy, and stops. 

I strain my ears, waiting for the next beat, the next breath of air.

The boy exhales.

It isn't until he's gone that I realize that I've been crying.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

. 

--- --- --- ---

--- --- --- ---

Kyrie Eleison {Lord, have mercy}

Cabbitshivers 2004

--- --- --- ---

--- --- --- ---


	4. Horizon 2 Te De'um

_Horizon 2_  
TE DE'UM  
.  
.  
.  
.

It's stopped.

Everything.

Nothing is moving.

Except his hair in the breeze, through my fingers and against my arm. And the blood... So slow...

Why is it still moving? Still inching along the floor millimetre by millimetre? Everything else has stopped. But it just keeps going; encroaching, growing... pretending as though the thing that makes it move is still moving itself. Pretending that the heart is still beating, that the lungs are still breathing, and that Son Gohan is not just a body sitting on the floor.

I can scarcely believe that's what I'm seeing.

His chest is so still. I keep waiting for the next breath of air, for the next rise and fall. And I'm straining to hear a heartbeat, something to tell me that this hasn't really happened. That it's just another nightmare. Another fabrication.

I know it's not, though. No matter what I wish this to be... what has happened is real. This is _real_. And no matter how hard I strain my ears I'm never going to hear another breath of air fill his lungs... His eyes aren't going to open and look up at me, shining with a smile. I'm never going to hear his voice again, shivering in the air, echoing in my cave, muffled through the trees in the forest...

Real. I have to remember.

But...I'm never going to hear his voice again...

That corner in my mind, where Gohan has been since only Kami can remember, is empty. It used to be so full, pulsing in the day time with whatever it was that Gohan had found exciting; a tingle that told me he was okay, that he was happy. And occasionally his voice would come through, some little happy thought that was so strong it shivered through the connection into mine, and made me smile, regardless as to how ridiculous the thought was. At night it was softer, a gentle murmur of tired emotions and sluggish thinking. I could easily fall into meditation with it whispering in the back of my mind. Lately, it's been hard to even feel him... And what I could feel...

Now... he isn't even there.

The silence in my mind is... everywhere.

I'm not certain when Vegeta stopped speaking, but now the absence of his voice makes everything too harsh, too separated. I can hear him breathing; low, quiet beneath the rush of my own breath in my nose. I still keep trying to hear Gohan's, and each time I can't this lump in my throat just grows bigger. I don't know when it started to form. It feels as though it's been there for so long now... months? Since the Cell Games, I think... Yes, since the eleven year old child stood before that monster and pretended to be brave. For his father. I thought for sure that we would all die that day... But it was the thought of Gohan... watching him down there... alone...

I can still remember the way he felt in my head... He was so terrified, yet his determination...

He always seemed to be so strong...

But you've always been good at pretending, Gohan.

I'm not... I'm not sure I'm any more equipped to deal with this situation as I was that one... My hands couldn't stop shaking then, and all I can feel of them now is the strong pulse in my thumb resting against Gohan's cheek. He's so cold... And so pale... I can't help but drag my fingers from his hair, over the closed lid of his eye, and down over his cheek. My fingers leave no marks... there's no blood left in his body to colour them...

Damn it, Gohan. I would trade my life for yours...

But I'm too late.

I should have realised something was wrong when the pressure started in the back of my head. When my ears buzzed and my throat dried, and the thought of drinking anything made me feel nauseous. I should have recognized the signs when Vegeta started moving. I should have been paying attention. I...

I realized too late that something was up. By the time I could sense where Vegeta was going Gohan had probably already...

He'd...

I can't even think it.

What kind of friend am I? To miss this? To be with... to be elsewhere, when he needed me the most...

What sort of person am I?

One who left too late, that's who. One who arrived too late. One who... barely had time to say goodbye.

I didn't think that I would ever have to, again.

Damn, why is everything so silent?

I didn't expect this when I came to the window. I didn't think that I would see Gohan sitting on the floor, bleeding out all over the wood. I didn't expect Vegeta to be holding him, either, though I knew that he was here. I thought that maybe something else was wrong. He was sick, or... anything else, really. Anything but this. Though...

No. I'm lying. I knew something like this was coming. I should stop making excuses to myself. I know Gohan too well. Far too well. I knew he was going to try it. It was only a matter of time. After thinking about things long enough you start to give them a go. And Gohan had been thinking about this for a long, long time.

I knew. Dende... _I knew_.

Gohan, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner. I should have been here. Would've been had not... had not...

Damn. I can't think about that right now. Not right now. Not when I can't even breathe properly.

Get a hold of yourself, Piccolo. Get a hold of yourself!

This is... I'm not prepared for this. Not at all. I should be - I'm a warrior, for fuck's sake! Death is normal. Expected. Seen. Old... Shit. No, it's not... No, it's not.

I'm shaking. The shadows of my fingers on his greying skin are trembling like trees harassed by the wind. I have to pull them away before this thing in my throat shatters.

Children aren't supposed to die.

Not like this.

Not ever.

Children... aren't supposed to die.

Was it only a week ago that he was complaining to me about some College grade text book he had to read? He was smiling as he was grumbling, drawing pictures in the margins like he had when he was younger. But... his smile had seemed out of place, as though it were a mask that didn't quite fit anymore because the face underneath of it had changed. And the pictures... there was an abundance of black smudges in them... smudges that could have been...

He hasn't been smiling properly for months now.

I noticed. I'm not blind.

But regardless of me visiting more - stalking him if I was to be honest with myself - he still found a way to silence the voices.

I knew about them, too.

I inhale, and the air shudders in my throat. It's the only sound in the room now. Vegeta's holding his breath.

I think I'm going to break. Is this how grief feels? I've never lost anyone before, not someone who's meant so much to me. Isn't it supposed to hurt more? Aren't I supposed to be crying? What is this thick feeling that numbs me all over? Why is my head so empty?

What the hell is going on!

You're not supposed to be dead! Not yet! Not alone!

Why, Gohan? Why? We can't wish back suicides!

Oh, damn...

We can't bring you back.

Why have you left us here, Gohan? Why? Why can't I feel you anymore?

Numb... Numb all over.

Everything has stopped.

_Move_. Why won't something _move_?

"Where were you?" Vegeta asks, and that cursed silence is finally broken. His voice sounds how I feel - hollow, yet his face... his eyes... they're burning. Instantly, as though my futile attempts to forget for a while were flimsy sheets of rice paper burned away by his gaze, recollection returns, and it's suddenly too hard to speak.

I can't pretend anymore. Everyone will know soon, anyway.

"With his mother." I reply. My equilibrium goes, and I find myself with my backside on the floor and my hands cradling my head. There's some hair caught in my nails. Dark, long.

Gohan's.

The thing in my throat leaps and quivers and I think it's about to explode. Dende... Dende, how am I going to say this? How am I going to tell her about this?

"She's pregnant."

Vegeta swears with such venom I think he's about to turn super Saiya-jin. I take my first good look at him since I came here, and the thing in my throat does another leap. He's shaking. His chin is resting on Gohan's still shoulder, and he's looking out the window. And his arms... He hasn't let go. He's still clutching the boy to him as if just his grip could keep him here. Vegeta... His cheeks are wet, and the skin around his eyes is red. He's been crying.

Vegeta's been crying. For Gohan. If only he could see... If only Gohan could see...

But his eyes... they're closed...

Gohan isn't here anymore.

Bloody... fucking...

"Fuck!" Vegeta yells suddenly. I jerk my eyes back up to his face from where they had dropped to Gohan's. He's looking over at me now, and breathing fast and deep. "Where is she?"

Stillness drips down into my lungs, and there's not enough air in them anymore. "On her way." I whisper.

Vegeta's head moves slowly from side to side, as though belief is still not a thing he's gifted with. "She can't see him like this."

No, I agree. No, she can't. "There's so much," I whisper instead.

Stupid mouth. Vegeta's looking at me again. "I know." He replies.

And it's barely a moment later when Gohan's body disappears.

What?

But...

I shake my head. What?

Vegeta sits there, stunned that there's nothing in his arms anymore. He looks over at me, but I can't form an answer for the question in his eyes.

"He's been granted his body?" He asks.

I shake my head again. This makes no sense. "I... guess so."

"He's a suicide." Vegeta states as if I'm stupid. I can't keep back the flinch that constricts my face.

I know, damn you! I know! Just... I squeeze my eyes shut, and breathe in deep. Just don't say it out loud...

Silence...

Another breath. There's something growing within me, now, a hope that I haven't felt for so long now. Whispering... quietly in my mind, a strange but welcome fluttering in my chest. My voice is just as quiet when I finally manage to speak again.

"Maybe he's been forgiven."

Vegeta doesn't say anything, but I know what he's thinking.

_Thank God_.

...thank God.

.

--- --- --- -  
--- --- --- -  
Te De'um We praise thee, O God  
Cabbitshivers 2005  
--- --- --- -  
--- --- --- ---


End file.
